


Names

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-11
Updated: 2009-02-11
Packaged: 2019-01-19 11:24:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12409410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Albus Severus is thoughtful and smart and comfortable in his own skin, but burdened with a very large name for such a small boy. He never understood quite how big his name was. // Albus Severus Potter's little bit of history. (Written for Winter 2008 Fic Exchange)





	Names

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

The first word Albus Severus Potter had ever learned to read was, in fact, 'Potter.'

On the morning of May 2, 2010 at exactly 8:17, he had stared at the newspaper before turning to his father and saying, "There's my name." Harry had grunted before looking up briefly to read the headline: "Twelfth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts; Harry Potter to speak at memorial service." Ginny had turned around from her position at the sink to stare at her son.

"Albus, what did you say?"

"There's my name. Right there," he said, sitting up on his knees in his chair and pointing.

"Sit properly in your chair. You'll spill your milk," she said absentmindedly, still looking at him strangely. "Harry...Harry, listen."

Harry looked up from the loose sheets of parchment in his hand and squinted at his wife inquisitively, "Hm?"

"Albus read."

"What did he read?" he asked.

"No dear, he _read_ ," she said.

"He rea –? Oh! He _read_! He read? What? What was it?" he said, looking around at the table where he and his son were eating breakfast.

She moved swiftly to the table and held up the paper for him to see, " _Potter._ He read the word 'Potter.'"

Harry's eyes widened and his lips parted before he said deflatedly, "Oh. Oh, wonderful. I'm – brilliant, _wonderful..._ "

Ginny turned back to Albus and gave him a sad sort of smile, "That's wonderful, love. I'm so, _so_ proud of you. And here, can you read this? It says, 'Harry.' That's Dad's name."

"Harry," Albus repeated, beaming. "Harry Potter."

________________________________________________________________________

Albus liked going to London – to Grimmauld Place. He liked standing under the front archway and look up at the faces screaming down at him, their eyes white with fury (or...well...marble. It all depends on imagination) as two snakes wound around each neck. He liked that the walls always seemed damp and the long hallways dark. He liked the picture of the proud, white-haired woman who whispered bad things to him when he passed (he had learned not to listen to her very close because once James had repeated something she'd said and Mum got real mad and Dad sat down with him and James and Lily and told them that they were things that they should never say and then he wouldn't say anything more about it).

He liked the big long quilt with names and lines and mysterious burn marks and the messy room at the top of the stairs that made James ask what 'Sirius' meant and Lily ask why she had the same name as the happy lady in the pictures.

(Albus thought, especially as he grew older, that his father had named his children after other people so that it would give him an excuse to talk about them when there wasn't really a reason. Albus found, especially as he grew older, that he resented a little less the fact that he had no picture or letter to ask after and that he had to fight tooth and nail to hear anything about the two men named 'Albus' and 'Severus' other than "They were great, brave men.")

He liked (best of all) the dark staircase with the shrunken house elf heads. They looked at him yearningly, their eyes sunken in and their ears crusty and creased. Albus made faces back at them, frightened and exhilarated all at once.

"Albus! Oh, there you are, darling. What are you doing?"

"Just staring at the heads, Mum. Why are they here?"

"Come on, come down from there. It's almost time to go."

Albus clambered down and Ginny brushed his hair with her fingers, trying to make it lie flat. He looked at her earnestly and asked again, "Mum, why are the heads there?"

Her fingers stopped and she sighed, looking up at the line of plaques, "Albus, the family who used to live here, before – before Uncle Sirius, was very strange and even...wicked – evil, some would say. They did strange things and putting their house-elves' heads up on the wall after they died was one of them."

"Oh. That _is_ awfully strange."

She smiled, "Yes, it is."

"Will we put Kreacher's head up there? He's dying, isn't he?"

"Oh, good heavens, no. No. Kreacher will be buried with – ah – all of his body attached."

"Oh. Ok. Because I don't really know how you would get a head to stick on wood like that."

His mother paused before saying, "I don't really know either." She stood up and offered her hand to Albus, "Come on, it's time to go. I'm sure Rose and Hugo have already arrived at Diagon Alley and they're waiting for us."

He grasped onto her hand as she yelled, "Harry, James, Lily! Come _on_. It's time to _go_."

________________________________________________________________________

He wasn't all too shocked to be sorted into Gryffindor. Even as he had complained about it to his mother or whispered to his father, there had been a gnawing notion hidden in the very back of his mind that he was a Gryffindor. Even though Severus had been a Slytherin, Albus thought that Albus Dumbledore would have been a Gryffindor (It was something his dad had said once) and that _was_ his _first_ name, after all.

Though – his stomach had flipped as Professor Longbottom whisked the hat away and said with a laugh, "Surprised, are you?"

He had stumbled off the stool, tripping a little as he walked towards his house table. The whispers and pointing that James had reported at his sorting were absent.

Albus supposed that was a good omen.

He sat down at the table, hunching into himself while the boy across from him looked at him oddly before saying, "Albus...that's an odd name. Named after your dead granddad then?"

Albus blinked before the boy's friend (Albus could only assume) hit him on the arm.

"No, you bludger, Albus _Dumbledore_."

"Who?"

"And _that_ is why you failed History of Magic last year."

"Potter, right?" asked the first boy. "You Potter's – er, older Potter –," he squinted his eyes shut and approximated a height from the floor with his hand, " _James'_ brother, then?"

Albus nodded his head.

"Next time you see him, tell him he still owes Dunson five sickles."

"Ok," he said timidly.

"Dunson. Remember that. _Dunson_. Five sickles. Remember." Albus nodded his head again and Dunson turned to whack his friend on the arm, "Stop making me look like an idiot in front of the freshies, Jordan."

Albus had learned to stay out of other people's business and so he glanced back to the sorting just in time to see Rose.

She walked neatly forward. Her hair was held back carefully by a headband, all of it pushed behind her shoulders. Her skirt was freshly pressed, her tie very much in place, her cuffs buttoned, her socks straight, and her shoelaces single-knotted.

She practically quivered as she approached the stool.

Neville gave her a happy smile as he plopped the hat onto her head, where it continued to sit in silence for a good thirty seconds.

Albus sat in anticipation, listening to a sort of soft humming in his ears, taking only a second to glance back at The-Boy-Named-Dunson who muttered something about "Weasleys" and "rabbits."

Another thirty seconds.

Twenty.

Ten.

And then:

"SLYTHERIN!"

________________________________________________________________________

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_I really like school and I think History of Magic is_ still _my favorite class even though it is really boring. There is a lot of information. I accidentally knocked into Professor McGonagall yesterday but she was real nice and helped me pick up the books I had dropped and asked me how I liked Hogwarts. I told her I liked it. She told me that she would have a meeting with Dad soon and asked me to tell Mum hi when I wrote to you next. I think Rose actually likes Slytherin even though she almost cried when she was sorted. She was really red anyway. I felt bad for her. Is Uncle Ron awfully mad? I've barely talked to her at all but she seems to have friends. I mean, it's been two months now but she seems to be happy enough. I got lost on my way to Defense Against the Dark Arts the other day even though James told me about a short cut. It's all right though. I got to class on time. I saw Victoire yesterday and she smiled but she was really busy because a boy had accidentally knocked into her and knocked all of her books and her papers out of her bag and he was helping her and she was mad at him. I felt bad for her. I love you and will you send sweets next time you write? All the boys in my dorm wanted the pasties you sent last time Mum. I will see you soon for our holiday._

_Albus Severus_

________________________________________________________________________

"So – so I said to him, 'what do you mean, calling someone a mudblood,' cause – cause, you know, I've never heard the word before, have you?"

"Well – once, but I don't have any idea what it means. My dad just got real mad when he heard it and told me and my brother that it was bad. But – I mean, I've never heard an actual person say it. I thought it was sort of made-up."

"Yeah, me too. But the kid just kind of laughed and looked down because a couple other people were looking and he sort of...I dunno...walked away."

"Hey! Hey, Al! Wait up!"

Albus turned around, pulling his scarf closer into him and hugging his books into the crook of his arm. He bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited for the girl to catch up.

"Hi there."

"Hi!" said Rose cheerfully. "Wonderful weather, huh?" she asked, looking around at the falling snow. "Who's this?"

"Oh, erm, Rose, this is Michael Thomas and Michael this is – Rose, my cousin. Rose Weasley."

Michael smiled at her and said, "Yeah, I think our dads were mates back in school. Or something – something happened. But they know each other, I think. I remember meeting him one time and he talked about you."

Rose looked down and blushed a little, "Yeah, maybe. Listen, Al, I need to – to talk to you about...something." She looked pointedly at Michael who widened his eyes, realizing that he wasn't going to be included in the conversation if she had anything to do with it.

"Er...right. Listen Albus, I'll just go on back to the tower. It's freezing out here."

"Yeah, I'll catch up," Albus said as he watched his friend walk away. He turned back to Rose, "What d'you need, Rosie?"

"He seems to be all right," she said, looking after Michael before smiling wryly, "for a Gryffindor."

"Oh yeah?" Albus said, bending down, grabbing a chunk of snow, and quickly grinding it into the side of his cousin's face.

"You are – horrible, Albus Potter. You are a horrible boy!" she yelled at him, laughing.

"Such lovely weather. But I'm all right, for a Gryffindor, right?"

"Oh, no. You're the worst kind," she said, spluttering a little trying to get snow out of her mouth. She wiped her face off and turned to him.

"What'd you need?"

"To talk to you."

"About what?"

"I don't know. We've barely seen each other. And...I don't know." The two children walked out of the court yard and into the school. Albus was silent for only a moment before Rose piped up again, "Hey, I saw your dad's name on a trophy...for – for Quidditch, I think. Did you want to see it?"

"A trophy?"

"Yeah."

"Sure. Where'd you see it?"

"It's only on the third floor. Here, come on," she tugged on his hand a little and he followed her up two flights of stairs and passed several locked doors. She opened the heavy and pristine door of the Trophy Room and they stepped in, looking around. "Here...it's right...here," she said pointing to a large golden cup.

"Dad never said much about when he played Quidditch...it was always Mum, you know? Huh."

Albus gazed up in wonderment at the cup while Rose moved on to look at others. "Here's McGonagall...and, hey, here's Mum and Dad and Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny...and Professor Longbottom and, hey, Teddy's dad is up here – oh – it's...what _is_ this?"

Albus tore his eyes away from the glint of the gold to see Rose reading a giant plaque on the opposite wall.

"Maybe it's one of those class lists. McGonagall and Mr. Lupin were both teachers here weren't they? When our parents went to school?"

"No. No, Albus come here and look. It says, 'In Memory of the Great Battle. To those who lived and those who died, forever goes the glory. To Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.' Huh. That's awfully strange. _The boy who lived_. Has Uncle Harry ever...?"

Albus shook his head and stepped closer to the hanging, reading the names. "Well...there was that war, remember? But...that doesn't," he said, stopping short.

"I'll have to ask Mum about this. She'll tell me and then I'll tell you."

"Yeah, sure."

"Hm," said Rose, looking out through the window. She turned to Albus quickly, "Al, what's the time?"

"Oh – er – it's five o'clock. Why?"

"Oh no," Rose groaned. "Paulina's going to eat me alive. I have to go, but I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay."

"All right then," she said, hefting her bag up over her shoulder and running out of the room.

"All right then," Albus repeated to himself, looking back up at the plaque.

_To Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived_.

________________________________________________________________________

His father had always been a sort of enigma to him (and perhaps sometimes even to his own self). He sort of hid away behind his glasses. It was something his mother had read to him once from a story, about the eyes being windows to the soul, and Harry Potter hid his behind glass and metal, Albus supposed. It was something about the war memorial in the square that he was told was of his grandparents (and of course, his father) and commemorating all they had done in the first war.

It was something about respect and pride and reserve and happiness.

It was something about living that made Harry Potter so puzzling to his middle child.

(Rose never did tell Albus what her mother had said about the giant plaque in the trophy room and Albus quite forgot to ask.)

______________________________________________________________________ ____

_Albus Potter, Second Year_

_History of Magic_

_April 2, 2019_

_The Causes of the Goblin Rebellion of 1944_

_Perhaps the bloodiest of goblin rebellions was the one in 1944. Many of the goblins died or got hurt, but a lot of new laws for the goblins came out of it. Even though a lot of goblins died, the goblins found a new hope in wizards which they never thought would happen. But many historians think that one of the causes of the Goblin Rebellion of 1944 was the dark wizard Grindelwald who had begun to wage his war in England and across Europe._

_Gellert Grindelwald wanted to take over Europe and made promises to the goblins that if they'd help him then he would make them equal to every one else. He didn't and the goblins found out his plans in 1944. They were very mad and broke out of the villages that had been set aside for them by Grindelwald so that they wouldn't have to be around wizards while he was fighting the war. They went into different towns with both muggles and wizards and burnt them down. In the 1940s this is why many muggles thought that elves existed and other magical creatures and wanted to find them. They looked but they couldn't find them (1)._

_Grindelwald was very mad at the goblins and "took back" his promises of equality. He ordered his followers and those he had forced to follow him to suppress the rebellion and for six months, the goblins and Grindelwald fought off and on. Grindelwald didn't actually care about the goblins though and let them be killed a lot._

_Then in 1945 Albus Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald who was sent to live in Nurmengard Prison and had all of his powers taken away. Albus Dumbledore became even more famous then than he already was and many people called him a savior. Albus Dumbledore made sure that the goblins were brought back to their previous homes before Grindelwald had made them live in those villages and even made sure that some laws were passed to help the goblins feel more equal in the magical world._

_Even though the Goblin Rebellion of 1944 was awful for the goblins, they had found a new hero in Albus Dumbledore and hoped that a new time of equality was close._

___________________________________

1 _. A Man's Search to Find the Inconceivable: My Encounters with Fairies and Elves_ by Douglas Schruter, 1949.

________________________________________________________________________

"Dad, could you sign my Hogsmeade slip?" Albus asked, walking into the kitchen to find his father and Ron Weasley sitting at the table. "Hullo, Uncle Ron."

"Hey, Al. Rose is awfully excited for Hogsmeade, you know. Had me sign it the first day of holiday."

"Albus, let me see it," Harry said, holding his hand out for it. He looked at it, a small smile on his face. "Ron, d'you remember?"

Ron's face instantly lit up. "Well, it _was_ all from Zonko's."

"Oh yes. The haunted Shrieking Shack," said Harry, laughing a little while he signed the slip of paper.

Albus deadpanned, "It's haunted?"

Ron chuckled a little before saying, "No, not really. That story only came about during your grandparent's time at school and was because Remus Lu –"

Harry shook his head at Ron warningly.

"Remus? Teddy's dad? Why did people think it was haunted? Dad?"

"Al – don't...Teddy already knows, but don't talk to him about this, okay? Or – or anyone else." Albus nodded his head solemnly. "Remus Lupin was a – a werewolf."

Harry stopped and looked up at his son, waiting for the reaction. Albus looked confused.

"But why would people think it was haunted just because Mr. Lupin was a werewolf?"

"Hermione's rubbed off on you, Al," Ron said happily. Albus ignored him.

"Dad?"

"Every month Remus would go into the shrieking shack to transform and because of all his yelling and howling, because you know, transformations are very painful, the people of Hogsmeade started to think that the Shack was haunted. Dumbledore encouraged the rumor."

"Oh."

"Yes, 'oh'," Harry said, smiling at his son.

"Dad," Albus said, a sudden thought occurring to him, "why were you called 'the boy who lived'?" Harry stopped smiling and turned to Ron before looking back at his son.

"Al – Albus, can we talk about this another time?"

Albus nodded and grabbed the Hogsmeade slip off the table before leaving the room, hearing, as the door swung shut, "Blimey, Harry, you haven't told him yet?"

________________________________________________________________________

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_Could you please send a letter saying that I can go to Hogsmeade? I think I must've left mine at home or lost it and Neville would let me go except that I_ have _to have the permission slip or some kind of permission. We go tomorrow and if I haven't heard from you by then that's ok because I suppose it's my own fault anyway. Sorry and thank you and Lily's doing great._

_Albus Severus_

________________________________________________________________________

Albus lugged his bag down several flights of stairs and was almost to the library when someone called out to him, "Albus!"

He turned around slowly and saw that it was Professor Longbottom. He smiled and walked over.

"Hi, Professor."

"Didn't get your parents' letter in time?"

"No. But – you know. It's ok. I'll get to go next time."

"The same thing happened to your dad. His uncle wouldn't sign the slip at all, though. He didn't lose it."

"Oh. But he's told me stories about Hogsmeade. If he didn't have the slip, then how did he get to go?"

"I think it was his godfather, Sirius Black, who gave him permission so he could go. That's how Harry tells it, anyway."

"Huh."

"Listen, do you want to come for some tea?"

"Erm – sure."

Albus lugged his bag down several flights of stairs and across part of the Hogwarts grounds to the Greenhouses.

"Is school going well?"

"It's fine."

"What classes did you sign up for this year?"

"Divination and Care of Magical Creatures."

The professor wrinkled his nose, "Divination, really?"

"Uncle George said it was easy. Dad said it was...interesting."

"Yes, it is...interesting," Neville said, laughing a little. "Here," he said, opening the door to let Albus through before beginning to make tea. "Ginny told me your favorite subject is History of Magic."

"A lot of people think it's boring and it is, sometimes. There's a lot of stuff about the goblins, but beyond all of that, there's a lot of really interesting stuff too."

"How far have you gotten?"

"Well...we kind of jump around a little. Last year we did some things with Grindelwald and we've already done some things with Voldemort in the first war this year, but it's mostly about the Death Eaters and we've only just started."

"I suppose Professor Binns doesn't really name any names, does he? He doesn't like to talk about controversy, only fact, from what I remember."

"The big names, like, of course, Voldemort, and then Dumbledore."

"I'll bet that's interesting."

"Yeah, it really is. I remember a little bit about him from when we studied Grindelwald and I like learning more. I wish we'd go a little more in depth with his life instead of just skimming over it."

"You should look it up if you want to know more about it. I know the library has plenty of information on that part of history. The second battle, particularly, was important in Hogwarts' history." Neville was silent for a few moments after this and Albus sipped his tea, looking around the office at pictures of different plants. "Great man, Albus Dumbledore," Neville said quietly. "Your father was with him the night that he died. Did you know that?"

Albus looked up, wide-eyed. "What?"

"Yes," he almost whispered. "You see, Death Eaters, you've learned about in History of Magic already? There was an infiltration at Hogwarts about a year before the Battle; Death Eaters were let into the school, tons of fighting. That's where your Uncle Bill got his scars. Anyway, Dumbledore was killed amongst it all and Harry was with him the entire time."

Albus swallowed hard. "Who killed him?"

"I –," Neville said, hesitating, glancing up at the boy before he looked back down at his hands, fiddling with a small spade, "I'm not even sure anymore."

"Oh," Albus muttered, looking back down at the dregs of tea in his cup.

"But he was a great man. I can see why your father named you after him. It's a good legacy to want your children to follow in."

"Yeah."

The professor smiled and looked down again, "Yeah. That's the problem, isn't it? You're named after two highly esteemed wizards who did important, even amazing things in their time. Of your brother and sister, you have the highest names to live up to."

"I don't understand why."

"I don't know why Harry chose the name that he did. The name 'Potter' already seems to be a heavy enough burden to bear," Neville finished solemnly before looking thoughtfully out to the grounds and leaning back in his chair. "I don't know how much Harry's chosen to tell you, but your father did brave things, miraculous things. He saved us all."

________________________________________________________________________

Albus sat at the library table, his quill scratching on parchment. He looked up at his book, reading about dragon blood when Albus Dumbledore's name blared out at him: "Albus Dumbledore is credited with the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood."

Of course. Of course.

He stood up quickly and began to scan the shelves, grabbing a number of books. He went back to his table and searched the indexes looking for "Dumbledore." He found what he was looking for.

_There are many questions about to the death of Albus Dumbledore, which has since become the stuff of legend. However, many eyewitness accounts remember seeing him fall from the Hogwarts' Astronomy Tower. Whether it was the fall that caused his death or his death that caused the fall is left to speculation. One common theory is that Severus Snape, the potions master at the time and a supposed double spy for Voldemort and Dumbledore, killed Albus Dumbledore in June of 1997. However, many historians have since disproved this theory, citing many reasons of how this would be impossible. One must ask themselves though, is fact often construed as fiction?_

Albus' heart skipped.

_One common theory is that Severus Snape, the potions master at the time and a supposed double spy for Voldemort and Dumbledore, killed Albus Dumbledore in June of 1997._

_Severus Snape killed Albus Dumbledore._

________________________________________________________________________

"Dad?"

"Hm?"

"If I ask you something, will you tell me the answer?"

Harry looked away from the window and at his son inquiringly. "Albus?"

"I – I've been having tea with Professor Longbottom."

"Neville?"

"Yes...and – erm – we were talking about my name the last time...you know, Albus Severus."

Harry sent him a sharp look. "Yes."

"And he said that you were with Albus Dumbledore the night that he – erm – you know... _died_."

His father let out a quick breath and covered his mouth with his hand, "Yes...yes, I was there."

"Well, when I asked him who killed Albus Dumbledore he said – he said that he didn't know."

Harry turned his head towards Albus but didn't look at him. "He said he didn't know."

"Right. So, you know, I though that – that since you were _there,_ you would know."

Albus could see his father draw into himself at the question, his glasses falling a little crookedly across his nose. Harry sat still for a few silent moments, the clock banging out a few chimes to signal that it was four o'clock. "Albus...it's – it's such a long story."

"Yeah, but..."

"I mean, it's not just that the story is long, it's just that, I'm not sure if you'll understand. This isn't History of Magic, where everything is spelled out for you by the teacher, there's...there's things that are –"

"It's fine. I'll just ask Mum, she knows, doesn't she?"

"Well, yes, but that's hardly fair..."

"Oh, I didn't know that was part of it."

Harry was silent for a few moments longer, staring down his nose at his hands.

"It's – you have to know, Albus, that – that things aren't how they first look. Just...keep that in mind. Er – so you asked about Dumbledore...well, it was," Harry stopped and visibly swallowed. "You – you were named for Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore, who was really such a great man and you were also named for Severus Snape." Albus flinched a little. His father saw and stared at him, "Well, if you already know, what are you asking me for?"

"The book said that it was only a rumor. Why doesn't anyone know for sure?"

"Because it's no one's place to know except the people who were there."

_It was something about respect and pride and reserve and happiness._

Albus looked down at his feet and Harry looked out the window at the front lawn.

"Dad...why – why were you there?"

"I had to be there. I was the –"

"Why are you 'The Boy Who Lived'? It's important because I know it is. And I always thought it was because of Mum, but it's you and I know it is and you won't tell me but I know Rose probably knows and probably even Hugo now and I'm –"

Albus remembered the end of the chapter on the first war against Voldemort: " _Voldemort then disappeared on the night of October 31, 1981, much to the confusion of the Wizarding world. Though the war had officially ended, there was still much reconstruction to be done and many trials to be had. The Death Eaters had to be dealt with._ "

Harry traced his fingers over the pattern in the wood of the desk, his foot beating out a tiny rhythm.

"You're you," Albus said dumbly, looking at his father, confused. "I don't understand."

"There's still so much you have to learn, Al," said Harry, finally speaking. "I'm not ready to – I couldn't understand when I was your age and now..." He stood up, straightened his trousers and took a look at his son. "Albus Severus, you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew," he said, repeating years-old information and sentiments. "Just remember that and the rest will come in time. I know. But I can't. I can't –"

"All right."

"All right."

Harry left the room.

________________________________________________________________________

Albus Severus Potter learned his first piece of true history on December 30, 2019 at exactly 1:20.

He had sat and watched his father in amazement struggle with words on a subject that he'd been afraid of and had covered for fifteen years, words on a subject that he'd hidden behind glass and metal.

(Albus thought, especially as he grew older, that his father had named his children after other people so that it would give him an excuse to talk about them when there wasn't really a reason. Albus found, especially as he grew older, that he resented a little less the fact that he had no picture or letter to ask after and that he had to fight tooth and nail to hear anything about the two men named 'Albus' and 'Severus' other than "They were great, brave men.")

It was something about living that made Harry Potter so puzzling to his middle child.


End file.
